With Hands Held High
by myblueeyedmetaphor
Summary: This is a crossover between The Outsiders/Rumble Fish/TWTTIN/and possibly Tex. The plot may follow most of the original stories. Some characters that were deceased may be alive and they are all the around the same age in the same time.
1. Chapter 1

~Echo~

Echo released a well-deserved sigh. The atmosphere in the shop was encased in boredom. As lack of entertainment weighed down on Echo, she focused on keeping her self from falling asleep. Her eyes subconsciously followed the monotonous ticking of the clock. It was getting late. The pet shop she worked and lived in would be closing in a couple hours, and the sun was fighting a losing battle with the moon. She wondered where her sister was right now. Her sister should have been in a long time ago for her shift, but the fact that she hadn't shown up wasn't surprising to Echo.

A black and white puppy scampered around his cage, tripping over his feet and falling on his stomach. Echo giggled softly to herself and crossed the room to him. The gold of the afternoon sun reflected off the black on his coat. He turned and yapped at her. She picked him up and allowed him to tickle her neck and face with his slimy, pink tongue. The puppy wiggled in her arms attempting to dance away from his capturer.

"Why don't you put that filthy thing down and feed him instead?" Echo's grandfather entered through the storage room door. For a grandfather he was very young. His hair was only slightly gray, and he was still healthy enough to be extremely active. Echo and her older sister lived with him because he was their last family member. Echo loved her grandfather more than she had loved her father or mother. He was strict but easily respected. His smiles and his hugs always felt warm and welcoming. He had amazing stories to tell, that or he was really good at creating them. He gave her one of his loving smiles then. She reluctantly dropped the puppy, letting herself out of his pen. Echo walked toward the storage room door and moved to pass her grandfather.

"Echo," her grandfather's voice stopped her in the hallway. "Where's your sister, anyhow?" he questioned her. Echo ducked her head and faltered in the doorway. She was a terrible liar, but felt that she needed to cover for her sister.

"I don't know." She almost slapped herself for such a lame answer. She hated lying to him, but he couldn't know the truth about her sister. He was very protective of them, and he had a good reason to be considering the area they lived in. Robberies and gang fights were very common. Echo slipped through the door before he could question her further. She listened for him to walk into the back room. When she heard him close the door, she moved to pick up the dog food. The front door chimed, and with the hope for something interesting, Echo quickly picked up the dry and left to greet the visitor.

~Rusty James~

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Steve's voice resounded off the dark alley walls. Rusty James could hear him stumbling over crates and litter, trailing farther and farther behind him. At the moment, Rusty James didn't care. He was furious with Biff for talking trash about his girlfriend, Patty. His anger fueled his strength and his need to fight.

"Slow down, would ya?" Steve's voice was distant in the alley and Rusty James's mind. Rusty James stormed ahead ignoring Steve's request. He didn't even realize Steve was having a hard time keeping up because he was kicking things over as he exploded down the cobblestone enclosure. Rusty James exited the alleyway underneath a street lamp, calming himself so he could allow Steve to catch up and preserve his energy for the fight. Steve stepped out of the alley, bent over and breathing heavily. Rusty James walked on, lacking concern for Steve's struggled breathing. He picked up his pace and rounded the corner. Biff and two members of his gang strode confidently toward Rusty James. They didn't look like they were carrying weapons, and Rusty James felt confident that he could take them. He recognized the guy to Biff's left. His name was Nick, and he had an honest reputation as a hell of a fighter. But Rusty James knew his weakness; he swung blindly when he was taunted. The other guy didn't look so bad, and he felt confident he could size him up in under a minute. Rusty James stopped and waited for them to reach him. Steve came up short behind him, breathing as if those were his last breaths.

"Well, well we meet again, Rusty James." Biff reminded Rusty James of their fight a couple of months ago. Biff had cheated and pulled a knife on him, but Rusty James still beat him with help from the Motorcycle Boy. The only memory from the fight was a long, jagged scar that rested lazily on Rusty James's chest.

"Ready to get beat again?" Rusty James asked, teasing him about last time. Biff smiled, an evil taunt lurking in his eyes.

"You think you can take all three of us?" He turned and looked at his friends who smiled broadly and nodded.

"You know I can." Rusty James smiled back at them, becoming exhilarated at the idea of the fight.

Biff sneered. "Then I guess I'm ready."

Rusty James readied himself. He let Biff edge closer while keeping his eye on the other two. He heard Steve take a long, slow gulp and followed his gaze. A light bounced in the corner of Rusty James's sight. He felt the cold, sharp make of the metal pierce his skin before he saw it coming.


	2. Chapter 2

_Oh, so in the first chapter I forgot to mention a few things. First of all, hope you enjoy. Second of all, Echo is an original OC. Some of the other characters will be as well. I'm still trying to get this together so bear with me. And the first person/third person thing needs to be fixed. Thanks for reading, please review!_

~Ponyboy~

"Hey, kid brother," Darry let the screen door slam shut and joined me on the porch steps. He looked at me with his ice green eyes. He was wearing a black shirt that showed his broad shoulders and Levi jeans. He was my oldest brother. Usually, we didn't get along very well but lately we had been. Darry had a hard time comforting people with words, and he couldn't understand things that weren't fact. He was complete opposite of my older brother, Soda. Soda had chocolate brown eyes that were alive and dancing. He was always happy like a constant ray of sunshine. Compared to Darry, Soda was sensitive and understanding. I've only seen Soda cry three times, but I've only seen Darry cry once.

Darry didn't have to say anything for me to understand that he was trying to comfort me. "Pony," he started but I just looked at him sadly and he got quiet. Darry draped one of his lean, muscular arms across my shoulders. We sat in silence, listening to Steve and Soda's argument from inside the house. I thought Two-bit Mathews, a good friend of ours, was still inside trying to break them up. Darry and I had been trying to figure out Soda's problem all week. This sort of behavior was unlike him. I saw Johnny Cade, another member of our gang, making his way toward us from his house. He had his hands tucked in his jean jacket and his head lowered. He looked like a scared puppy with big black eyes and tan skin. I knew nothing was wrong with him, though, he normally walked a little cautiously. I jumped up, brushing Darry's arm off. I regretted it when I saw his face fall, but I crossed the yard to Johnny anyway.

"Hey, Johnnycake, what's up?" I heard the door bang as Darry walked back into the house. I flinched, feeling as if the door had hit me. Darry and I had been getting along better since Sodapop's breakdown a few weeks ago, but I wasn't making it easy. Soda and Steve had been fighting a lot lately, and Darry was doing his best to comfort me. No matter what he said, I would still be wondering what was wrong with Soda and why he wasn't telling me anything. Soda never ever got angry with Steve. Sure, there were plenty of times when Soda had told Steve to back off when he was harassing me a little to aggressively, but it never turned into an argument.

"I heard the yelling," Johnny answered in a quiet voice, "I figured something was bad if I could hear it over my parents." He smiled meekly.

"Yeah, I have no idea what's going on. It's got me worried." I shook my head. Johnny seemed as if he were in deep thought and then focused back on his conversation with me.

"What could those two possibly have to fight about?" Johnny asked the question quietly, hoping he wouldn't offend me since my temper had been short lately.

"I don't know, but it's really set Soda off. He won't talk to me or Two-bit and he yells at Darry. We can't get him to tell anyone what's wrong." I released a heavy sigh. Soda was acting so strange. It was breaking my heart to see him so unhappy. It was hurting the rest of the gang too.

"Well I could-." Johnny cut off when Steve marched out the door, causing the screen to hit for the third time. I winced again, taking the hit for Soda this time. Steve stomped with his head down and his hair flew loosely since he hadn't greased it today. He kicked Two-bit's hubcap and walked off swearing under his breath.

"I'm sorry," I said turning back to Johnny now that the neighborhood had quieted, minus the barking dogs. "What were you saying?"

Johnny coughed to clear his throat. "I can try."

"If you want to risk it." Johnny nodded and quietly walked inside the house. I shivered. It was getting colder out here since the sun was going down. I lit a cigarette and leaned against the chain length fence, hoping Johnny would be able to reach Soda.

~Bryon~

"Mark." Two golden orbs turned to meet my brown eyes. He cocked an eyebrow.

"Yeah?" I sighed.

"You missed everything I just said didn't you?" I tried to keep the aggravation out of my tone. I never got angry with Mark. It was a good thing, too. Mark was small, but he didn't let anyone push him around. He wouldn't hurt me either, because we were as close as brothers, and I didn't want him mad at me.

Mark looked away from me. "Were you talking about that girl of yours?"

"What difference would it make?"

"Were you?"

I looked in the direction of his gaze. All I saw was the paved road, some mailboxes, and worn houses. Briefly I wondered what Mark saw in those things, if he saw them at all. Sometimes it seemed like he could look straight through people, almost as if they were invisible. I don't mean that like Mark understood people. He only understood his way of thinking. He claimed that spending a lot of time thinking about the way things would never be was left to dreamers like Ponyboy Curtis. So, Mark only saw the cold side of the world. I decided that he probably just wasn't paying much attention to where he was looking.

"Yeah, I was, but I don't see why I can't," I told him.

He just shrugged and stood up. "I'm bored. Let's go find some action."

I stood up, too. "I think I'm gonna go see Cathy." He stared at me like I was a stranger. It hurt, but Mark needed to know that I was serious about Cathy.

"Fine, I'm going to the Curtis's." That hurt more. Mark knew I despised the Curtis brothers. He didn't give me a chance to protest. Mark strode down the street with a his hands in his pockets and a look in his eye that reminded me of two people. Dallas Winston and The Motorcycle Boy.


End file.
